kingdom of nations

Chapter 136 On the Road to Apollo (1)

“I didn’t expect you to do this,” said Geoffroy with great interest.

Cesar couldn't help but show a nostalgic expression. "When I first arrived at Holy Cross Castle, I often made it for Baldwin." In fact, during this period, apart from some places favored by God—such as "the land flowing with milk and honey"—people's powerlessness against nature, their fear of technology, coupled with the strict control of the church and the royal family, meant that the land's produce was never satisfactory.

Aside from festivals, celebrations, or welcoming distinguished guests, when some Crusader knights were still at home, their daily diet consisted of bread, cheese, and vegetable soup. Meat mainly came from semi-wild pigs, sheep, and old cattle, chickens, ducks, and hunted prey. During Lent, the availability of fish depended on whether there were rivers in their territory; otherwise, they could only eat salted fish.

Even these "gentlemen" prioritized ensuring their bodies could withstand arduous training and frequent campaigns, rather than the taste, color, or texture of the food. The common people were even less concerned about such things.

Even in the castles of great nobles, the most valued qualities of a cook were not his culinary skills, but rather his ability to quickly and effectively process game, smoke, marinate, and dry meat, and to accurately identify and store grains and vegetables.

The wealthier lords and kings, however, still ate only the rarest ingredients—from elegant swans to narwhals, from onions to saffron. When someone attended a banquet, the quality of the feast was usually judged by whether there were luxurious sugar piles or saffron soup dyed golden yellow.

Even a century or two later, the outdated custom of passing food down the social hierarchy persisted. Simply put, food was first offered to the host and honored guests (without being cut into pieces), who would then use a dagger to cut off the portions they needed and pass them on to lower-ranking guests. Once these guests had finished, the remaining scraps were given to the servants and attendants.

Only after the servants and attendants have carefully gnawed away the last bit of meat from the bone will it be tossed to the hounds that roam the table. Some servants are so meticulous that they will even break the bone to suck out the marrow, and if any of them do not, they will be ridiculed for acting like a master.

Cesar was fortunate that upon entering Holy Cross Castle, he became Baldwin's servant. Baldwin did not seem to have any intention of giving breadcrumbs, soup base, or scraps of meat to his servants—it is also possible that he had already contracted an illness by then and had become accustomed to not leaving anything "as a reward" for others.

When Cesar brought out a pot, cooked a thick soup, and then took out two bowls, fairly serving one to each person, Baldwin did not object. They naturally developed this custom that belonged only to them.

When he and Baldwin became attendants and had to stand behind dignitaries at banquets, serving them food and drinks, neither the king nor Queen Maria at the time forced them to eat the leftovers. If Baldwin hadn't been a prince, perhaps some would have mocked them for being ungrateful, since the leftovers from the king and queen's plates must have been the most delicious and tender.

Well, how should I put it? At least Queen Maria at the time ate relatively neatly and cleanly (not in a messy way). But King Amalric I, as the Countess of Jaffa complained, would wipe his snotty-nosed hand on a napkin or robe before picking at the food on his plate, leaving behind so much mess that it would make Cesar gasp and take three steps back.

That period was probably when they stole food most frequently. The blessings of God and the saints were making them grow rapidly, and the energy needed for growth wouldn't come out of thin air. Their stomachs always seemed to be rumbling—dry bread was just something to eat, and the pot on the fireplace in Baldwin's room was never empty, either simmering with salted meat and vegetable soup or warming wine and fruit.

It's unclear when it started, but when the portly Dean John came to visit him, the things he brought gradually changed from books and relics to food. To be honest, the Gerald family's secret recipes were indeed quite effective. After finishing a large bowl of mutton stew or a large box of candied fruit, they could always get a good night's sleep.

However, Baldwin preferred Cesar's cooking. Unlike the castle chefs, he wouldn't frantically add spices to dishes to emphasize their preciousness. Sometimes, the soup served at banquets was more like a bowl of perfumed paint, and its taste was predictably terrible.

However, the food in the castle was not very plentiful at that time. César often went to the market to scavenge for raw materials, and there were only a few methods he could use.

"Is it ready to drink? I think it's about time. What did you add? Was it saffron?"

Joffre's series of questions pulled César back from his reverie. He looked down at the large pot, where the liquid was bubbling and bursting, with large and small milky bubbles constantly rising from the bottom. The chunks of meat and vegetables inside bobbed up and down like a school of fish rising and falling beneath the surface.

At first, the scalding steam burns your nose, but then comes the aroma. It's not the pungent smell of spices, but a rich, sweet fragrance contained in the steam, as if you have to break through it to smell it. Each wisp is so long and clear (Froy can even clearly distinguish the smell of lamb, wild onions, and cabbage), penetrating deep into your lungs and making your mouth water.

“No,” César said, “I just added some beetroot and ginger.”

“That’s still very precious,” Geoffroy said sincerely, trying to widen his eyes to make himself look more adorable. Cesar watched helplessly as he circled around, unwilling to leave—“Would you like to try some?”

Froy immediately beamed with joy, and the cook beside him promptly understood and took a wooden bowl as big as a horse's head—almost like a small bucket. Cesar picked up a large ladle and filled the bowl to the brim with mutton and cabbage. The Templar Knight took it and immediately ran out of the kitchen, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

He could always find a suitable place, perhaps a quiet and comfortable corner—to hurriedly finish this special side dish before the main meal. In his words, he was merely tasting it on behalf of the knights, lest Cesar make a mistake due to his unfamiliarity with their palates. This explanation, of course, would be met with scorn from the knights—every knight, whether from the Temple, the Good Hall, or the Holy Sepulchre, was undoubtedly united in their indignation at this moment.

“This is truly unbelievable,” said Geoffroy, swallowing the delicious broth. “If I had this kind of soup back home, I might not have come all the way to Arrassa.” He said this rather disrespectfully, but he really hadn’t expected Cesar to use this method to ease the somewhat stiff and tense atmosphere in the group.

Baldwin's initial intentions were certainly good, but he overlooked his own identity as the King of Arathi Highlands, and the previous Battle of Galilee—the only victory the Crusaders had achieved in recent years, and which could almost be considered a miracle. Before that, who could have imagined that Nur ad-Din's tens of thousands of troops would be defeated by a few hundred knights in one night, and that Nur ad-Din himself would unfortunately fall from his horse and die, becoming a cornerstone under the young king's feet.

Or perhaps he had blind faith in Cesar, believing he could handle everything, including the ninety knights and their retinues, armed squires, and servants.

Among these knights, some had followed Amalric I on his expedition to Egypt, and a few had even received favors from Cesare on the battlefield; they were undoubtedly on Cesare's side.

However, after the main Crusader force suffered a major defeat on their northward expedition to Murray, in order to make up for the losses, the three major knightly orders unanimously transferred some members who had originally been stationed on the remote front lines and recruited some new people. Even those who had heard of Cesar's deeds were bewildered by the absurdities that seemed more like miracles fabricated by priests.

What? He was originally a slave who escaped to Amalric I's horse and was finally rescued? What? He became Baldwin's servant in just a few days, and the prince was completely obedient to him? What? He was able to participate in the election ceremony with the prince? And this election ceremony, which was supposed to take place in the Temple Church, was instead found sleeping in front of the Holy Sepulchre the next morning?
What? The prince received the Spear of St. George, which is rare but not surprising, but his squires also received favors no less than those of any earl or duke's son? What? They became squires before they were even fourteen, then were promoted to cadet knights, and then on the battlefield of an expedition, the dying king held a sword-granting ceremony for them, making them knights at an age when some were still feeding pigs in castles?

What? The new king treated him as a brother and swore an oath of equality? No, no, no, he really was the new king's brother? He was the only son of Josephine III, who was imprisoned in Nurdin Castle? And what about the palm print on the birth certificate, the fortune worth 200,000 gold coins, and so on? They all suspected that at least part of it was a lie fabricated by the new king to elevate this servant to a position that did not originally belong to him.

They were filled with doubt and speculation about him. Although they did not go so far as to directly provoke him, they mostly maintained an attitude of observation and distance. Not to mention, they had no idea how King Baldwin IV could come up with the idea of ​​drawing men from the three major knightly orders.

The Templars and the Good Samaritans have always had a poor relationship, and they despise each other. The Templars mock the Good Samaritans as weak hypocrites, while the Good Samaritans retort that the Templars have now degenerated into greedy misers.

The Knights of the Holy Grail, in a sense, were independent of the major knightly orders from the very beginning. This is because their first Grand Master was Godfrey, the first guardian of the Holy Grail, an undisputed saint. Subsequent Grand Masters were all kings of Jerusalem, and their duty was to protect the Holy Grail and the Holy Cross. Apart from the king's personal campaigns, they rarely participated in other people's wars.

It would be strange if these hot-blooded young knights didn't spark some conflict when they got together.

The methods that could quickly win them over elsewhere are difficult to apply here. The temple, the charitable shrine, and the Holy Sepulchre are all armed monastic organizations. Except for the Grand Master of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre, who is the King of the Holy Land and must inherit the mantle to fulfill the "Oath of Godfrey," the knights are required to renounce worldly desires and dedicate themselves to God's cause. They cannot own private property, nor do they have the right to inherit or be inherited. They abstain from women, meaning they cannot pursue noblewomen or enjoy the company of prostitutes. Fortunately, to ensure their combat effectiveness, they can eat meat and drink a little alcohol, but being drunk will be reprimanded. Their free time is spent either training or praying, but apart from a few fanatical believers, no one can derive pleasure from either activity.

In other words, to win their hearts and minds, you can't bestow gifts upon them like a king, nor can you invite them to brothels like a dissolute youth, let alone have them engage in duels, gambling, or dancing. The only thing you can do is hunt. But the knights here are not only veterans of battle, but they are also chosen ones. Unless they encounter a special situation like Count Étienne, ordinary wild beasts pose no threat to them.

So it seems that what's left is one of humanity's most basic desires—eating and drinking.

In César's world, eating and drinking are indeed one of the most effective means of socializing. And now he can afford to spend that much.

He already had several hundred gold coins in savings, and after being knighted, he received a reward from King Amalric I. Baldwin, upon ascending the throne, generously gifted him three thousand gold coins. Queen Mother Maria and Countess Jaffa also gave him gifts, as well as presents from various ministers for cultivating relationships, since he was, after all, a close advisor to the new king.

In this way, Cesar's personal wealth rapidly increased to more than ten times its original value, and he also had a sum of 200,000 gold coins in his possession. Although he was only holding it in trust, it was impossible for him to be short of money, at least for the next few years.

It was a reasonable thing to give the knights extra food, but his willingness to cook for them personally was a bit beyond people's expectations. What surprised them even more was that he actually cooked it quite well, no, it should be said that it was extremely delicious. Even though it was the same fish, duck, chicken and pork, he was able to make it tender and delicate, melt in the mouth, and have a rich flavor, without any fishy or foul smell.

It's not surprising that during this period, people had no way, or had difficulty eliminating, those fishy and pungent smells except for spices. Not to mention wild game, even domesticated pigs, chickens, and ducks were not castrated. Moreover, even after smoking, pickling, and air-drying, meat that had been stored for too long would still inevitably have a slight putrid smell.

Cesar will only use the freshest food, of course; after all, their team has thousands of people, so they can eat it all.

As they marched past in a grand procession, the villagers of the surrounding villages were inevitably terrified and fled in droves. This was their innate survival wisdom—no matter what banner these knights flew, they could instantly transform into beasts who only knew how to plunder, rape, and kill. Only when they knocked on the gates of a nearby castle, explained their purpose, and had the castle's owner intervene could they purchase enough supplies from these residents.

Of course, this kind of consumption was much greater than just feeding these knights dry bread and water every day, but this heavy burden was also rewarding. The knights all had big appetites, and fortunately, their taste buds were not completely beyond redemption. The three meals a day became the thing they looked forward to the most. Although the priests in the delegation hesitated slightly about the three meals, they soon shut their mouths.

Although they were priests, they were also priests in the Knights Order. They had to fight on horseback and settle accounts on foot, with physical and mental labor overlapping every day.

Enduring hunger is certainly a good form of asceticism—but if they could wake up comfortably and then enjoy a delicious meal, they wouldn't refuse.

And Froe was the only knight who could rightfully come and eat the first or extra serving each day.

The fact that he hasn't been killed to this day—all the contradictions pale in comparison to "Geoffroy's extra meal"—is, of course, thanks to César's favoritism.

This old knight had favored and cared for César when he was still a young squire. Even though he had done things that were almost unacceptable to César, there was no doubt that he was still one of César's benefactors.

To this day, he still stands by César's side. On the day of departure, his address of "Count" was both a joke and a reminder—the knights may have doubts, but one thing will never change: César is indeed the sole heir to the County of Edessa. Before his father, Josephine III, returned to Arrassa, he was the only one who could speak on the affairs of Edessa, not to mention that he was the cousin of the King of Arrassa.

They may not believe it, but they must respect it; otherwise, Cesar has the right to punish them, even hang them.

This allowed Cesar to spend the next few days in peace, and now, the saying "never offend the cook" holds true everywhere.

He handed over the rest of the work to the Christian cook who had been watching him closely and studying his every move. As he stepped out of the simple kitchen and took a deep breath in the bright morning light and cool air, the knights had already emerged from their tents or rooms.

They rested temporarily in this small village last night. The village belonged to the Saracens, but they also had an envoy from Apol with them. After a little explanation, they were given some rooms. The other knights, of course, could only set up tents outside the village to rest. However, even if there were enough rooms in the village, the knights might not be willing to sleep under the watchful eyes of the enemy.

Fortunately, nothing untoward happened last night, and everyone was safe and sound. They couldn't wait to get to the open space. There wasn't a grand hall like in the castle where they could sit together and share a meal, but since it was food, there was no need to be so formal.

They either shared a steaming pot of mutton together, or divided it into individual wooden bowls and enjoyed it alone, according to their own customs.

If Frois had already returned, he casually asked for another large bowl of broth, as if he hadn't eaten anything at all. He then ate heartily on the side. After finishing, he tossed the wooden bowl to his squire, who immediately ate the remaining vegetables and drank the last bit of broth. He then reluctantly licked the bottom and rim of the bowl before going to the well to wash it.

"What shall we eat for lunch?" Geoffroy asked, wiping his mouth—he used to be too lazy to do this, but if a greasy man dared to approach, César would immediately run three miles away. "We'll be at Busla by noon," a small but quite prosperous city near Damascus. "We might be treated to a feast."

Of course, formal banquets are usually held in the evening, but the managers will definitely provide them with food at noon.

Geoffrey made a sound and left rather reluctantly.

“Once we get to Busla, we’ll go and buy spices and ingredients,” Cesar said helplessly. Jofla did not turn around, still with her back to him, but immediately raised her hand in a gesture of blessing.

As César said, the administrators of Busra hurriedly began preparations after receiving the message from the mission. When they learned that the mission needed spices and food, they immediately sent cartloads of wheat, barley, beef, and mutton, and even some pork.

The Saracens don't eat pork, yet they were able to provide fresh pork, which shows their dedication.

“Look what this is?” César showed a small box to Geoffroy. Geoffroy took it and opened it. Inside was a box of saffron—this precious spice was meant for the king or governor. Geoffroy lazily stretched out his nose to sniff it, and the strong smell made him turn his head away and sneeze.

“He needs something from you, or from us,” the old knight said.

(End of this chapter)